


After The Storm

by jugandbettsdetectiveagency



Series: Tacos and Tequila [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Coda, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Tacos and Tequila Coda, so much cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 09:52:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11483901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jugandbettsdetectiveagency/pseuds/jugandbettsdetectiveagency
Summary: Some snapshots from the Tacos and Tequila universe





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Jughead's perspective leading up to Betty's goodbye.

It isn’t difficult to discern the look that crosses Archie’s face upon seeing his two friends together. He is quite plainly confused at the sight that greets him – a mess of sheets and pillows on the floor, Betty and Jughead, in their pajamas, emerging from said sheets and pillows together. He’d thought about leaving his shirt off before crawling out to greet his roommate but then, in a move that disappointed himself, he’d chickened out. Jughead tries not to look like a schoolboy in trouble as they stand across from each other, but he’s not sure if he pulls it off.

_“Jughead and I got to know each other a lot.”_

A warmth that he’s becoming quite familiar with in the face of Betty Cooper blooms in his chest as she takes a step closer to him. She’s being brave, she’s already started doing things for herself. The decision to inform Archie of the shift that’s occurred between two former strangers over the weekend, though a little forced upon her, is on her terms, because she wants to. He keeps his hand on her lower back, partly to reassure her, partly because he’s just so damn proud of her that he can’t keep himself from making contact a little selfishly.

_“You… and Jughead?”_

He knows that he shouldn’t be offended by the incredulity in Archie’s voice. He’s not one hundred percent certain that it’s due to her being the Betty Cooper she’d described to him, or him being the Jughead that Archie had only gotten to know a little, forming an opinion before he’d seen the whole picture. Either way he senses her wince at his tone. The comment about them barely knowing each other doesn’t sit right with him either, and he makes this much known by the snort that won’t stay inside. Jughead isn’t the one that just jetted off on vacation with a girl he’s only known for a couple of weeks. The furthest he’d travelled this weekend was to third base – the thought of Betty writhing beneath him is still so incredible that he can’t quite convince himself that he didn’t dream it anyway.

When she continues to defend their newfound _thing_ to her childhood best friend, voice finding some more firmness as she goes, he latches onto her confidence and brings his arm up to settle around her shoulders. The slump in them when Archie attempts to bestow his reserved approval upon them is visible, and he realises then just how much of a struggle it had been for her to hold her nerve.

_“You and me, like old times.”_

Just like his transparent expression, Jughead doesn’t miss the sentiment behind the words. He doesn’t like that Archie is trying to stake a claim on Betty, to get her to revert back to the girl he knew and still was in his head just forty-something hours ago. Jughead feels a twinge, like the pull on a barely healed-over wound, when Betty goes over to him, tells him she still missed him. Of course, she forgives him. She’s still Betty and they’re still practically siblings so he can’t be too surprised. He’s been working for the past few years to get over the impending feeling of abandonment that seeps into his mind whenever he makes a new friend but nobody’s perfect, he knows, and he’ll still have to catch himself in these moment of doubt.

Jughead doesn’t want to be _that guy_ while he’s working through these feelings of possessiveness that he’s trying to stamp down. Their bubble is burst and it’s time to re-join the real world, no matter how much he’s come to like it in here much more. He can see the look of disappointment on her face when he declines her offer to join them, the relief in Archie’s, and retreats to his room. She needs time on her own to see what she makes of this new side of herself she’s unlocked. He knows she capable, she just needs to put it into practice.

His foot taps irritably against the floor as he sits at his desk, not quite sure what to do with himself without Betty’s all-consuming presence. He sighs – man, is he so gone for her. He doesn’t know how the rest of his time is gonna go when she returns back to Columbia.

That’s another reason why Archie’s interruption had _frustrated_ him. They hadn’t had a chance to discuss what they were, or rather what they were going to be once this weekend passed. Jughead knew what he wanted, he knew that whatever this was he wanted to take it further. No matter how slow that trail was he was willing to walk it. He _thinks_ that’s what Betty wants too, but he won’t know for sure until they talk, and now he doesn’t think it’ll get to be in person. But that’s another thing he’s going to have to get used to if they choose to try and make it work.

Jughead pulls open the draw in his desk where he’d stashed all his long-abandoned art supplies and settles a blank piece of paper in front of him. His fingers itch to fill the paper with bold lines and soft shadows, his mind pulling up the pictures from his memories of Betty tucked beneath their lovingly built blanket fort.

The door slams shut and he hears them, Betty’s light and breezy voice and Archie’s boisterous laugh, come into the apartment as he’s halfway done. Jughead doesn’t think he would join them anyway, even if he was done with his comic. Loitering around them is the last thing he wants to do, and if he’s being fair Betty did come to see her friend. Even if he had been a dumbass.

Shuffling cautiously to the door, Jughead makes his way over to the sink to tackle the leftover dishes by way of distraction. It’s almost time for Betty to leave and he wants to be there for the option of talking, wants a goodbye, but doesn’t want to force himself upon her. Footsteps echo behind him, too heavy to belong to Betty.

“Hey, man,” Archie greets, leaning against the counter next to him, biceps bulging as he crosses his arms over his chest and resolutely doesn’t meet Jughead’s eye.

“Hey. Good day?” he asks with equal parts politeness and curiosity, scrubbing at invisible dirt on the completely clean plate in his hands. Archie nods, shuffling with mild discomfort.

“Yeah, yeah it was good,” he offers back, not making to give any more details. “Betty’s just packing.” A silence stretches on their neither of them know how to break. “Look, she told me about… you know, what went down.” Jughead bristles.

“Oh?” he questions with a lightness he definitely doesn’t feel. Archie nods again, and Jughead wonders briefly if the repetitive motion is another bro thing – it seems familiar.

“Yeah. I know I’m a complete ass for what I did,” he starts. _Dumbass,_ Jughead’s brain supplies again. “And she had every right to be so mad with me, but she wasn’t. She seems happy.” Archie clears his throat. “And that’s apparently down to you, so thank you.” Jughead drops the fork he was wiping back into the bowl. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Um, you’re welcome,” he replies, but the inflection at the end of the sentence makes it sound like a question. Archie gives him an easy going smile and Jughead realises that, after his initial surprise, that’s what Archie is – just an easy going guy.

“Betty has had a rough time of it, especially in the last few months. I know she told you what happened and you didn’t make her feel… crazy. You helped, and she’s like my sister and I appreciate that.” Jughead knows his mouth is open but his body won’t tell it to close. “If you can get her to feel that good about herself in one weekend then who knows what good you could do by being together in the long run.” He claps a hand on Jughead’s shoulder, and that’s definitely a bro thing. “You’re a pretty good guy, Jug.”

Jughead laughs and ducks his head, wondering why he suddenly feels the urge to blush. “Glad you think so,” he says wryly.

“But like I said, she is like my sister and if you hurt her I’ll hurt you.” Archie pats his back a little harder than necessary, more like a thump really. Jughead winces but can understand his need to share the stereotypical sentiment. “Wanna get pizza later?”

“Sure, sounds good,” he agrees, amused by the quick shift in topic, thinking that perhaps his and Archie’s friendship might develop a little after all.

“Oh and don’t tell Betty I just did the whole ‘if you hurt her’ thing. She’d kill me,” he mutters hurriedly as they hear Betty’s door open. Underneath the joke there’s a sincerity in his wide, brown eyes that has Jughead pressing his lips together to hide a laugh. The thought of a gym rat like Archie being scared of someone as dainty as Betty is definitely entertaining.

“Not a word,” he mumbles back, slapping a sombre expression on his face just as Betty asks “Everything alright?”

Archie makes a quick exit, raising his eyebrows briefly at Jughead as he goes to signal that this is their talking time. Jughead takes a breath, turning to face Betty where she’s standing a few paces behind him, fingers twisting nervously but thankfully not clenched. With the hope in her wide, green eyes and the way her teeth are adorably worrying her lower lip, Jughead knows he isn’t going to let her go.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betty and Jughead get some alone time.

Betty stifles another laugh as Jughead lets out a dramatic sigh for at least the third time in the last fifteen minutes. He shuffles noisily on top of her bed, rustling the sheets as he throws his lanky limbs about with exaggerated exasperation.

“Juggie, stop it!” Betty whispers, hiding her giggle with an indiscreet cough. She bites her lip to force the grin from her face as she follows Jughead’s narrowed gaze. He’s been glaring unrelentingly at her roommate, Midge, for the better part of an hour while paying no attention to the open book in his hands.

“She wasn’t supposed to be here,” he mumbles back, pushing his lower lip out in a sullen, yet utterly adorable, pout. Betty’s eyes flick over to Midge where she is sitting at her desk on the other side of the room, completely oblivious to the discontent she is causing, darting in quickly to kiss her boyfriend’s frown away.

“We of all people should understand her predicament,” she reminds him, raising a teasing eyebrow. Jughead sighs, shooting the girl one last look before attempting to focus on the book. He knows Betty is right but that doesn’t make him any less annoyed.

Betty had timed Jughead’s visit perfectly with the end of his semester, almost the end of hers, and the day Midge had planned on going home for the holidays. Unfortunately, the weather had taken yet a further turn for the worst, showering the streets with another snowy downfall that had made it impossible for traffic to get into the city – Jughead had barely made it to Betty’s campus before the worst of it came down. Midge’s parents had called her from the motel they’d pulled into the night before, informing her that they’d be back on the road as soon as they could to pick her up.

The little bump in the road, or rather the snowstorm on the highway, meant that what was going to be a nice empty dorm room for the blossoming, long distance couple had turned into a rather comical rendition of three college students and a frustrating situation. And, as Betty liked to remind him frequently, Jughead was well aware that that _situation_ was located in his pants.

Doing the long distance thing hadn’t been too hard on them. Sure, Jughead would have preferred if he could have gotten to continue unravelling the mystery that was Betty Cooper in person rather than via sporadic Skype sessions – but they were making it work. They both wanted it to work.

He had sent her more hand drawn comics.

“How did we only spend two days together?” Jughead asked again while shaking his head, his image on Betty’s laptop screen slightly blurry and lagging with the ancient college Wi-Fi. Even in pixels the sight of his eyes, intensely fixed on her, had butterflies flapping uncontrollably in her stomach. Betty let out a sigh she hoped didn’t come across as too dreamy and tucked her chin into her palm to lean closer to the screen. Her hand twitched as if to brush the ever unruly curls from his forehead before realising she couldn’t.

Another disadvantage to being long distance? Annoying lack of physical contact.

“It definitely wasn’t enough,” she grumbled, her frown turning into a shy smile at Jughead’s resounding grin. God, she was so gone for this boy. “Only two more days and I get you all to myself again,” she told him, feeling a blush spread across the apples of her cheeks at the unspoken implication hiding beneath her words. Betty fiddled with the collar of her shirt, Jughead’s gaze turning to a smoulder as he followed the movement. He opened his mouth to reply, inappropriate suggestions balancing on the tip of his tongue.

“Hey, roomie!” Midge called as she bounded into their room. Betty sat upright, jerking away from the screen she’d subconsciously been inclining towards. Jughead grumbled almost inaudibly, rolling his eyes in such a way that had Betty sucking in a breath to hide a laugh.

“Hi, Midge,” she greeted, smoothing a hand over her ponytail absently. “Um, Jughead says hi, too,” she said, shooting a sly smile at the screen as she spun the laptop round to face the room, just catching the way he widened his eyes in protest before he had to rearrange his features.

“Hey, Jughead!” Jughead winced. He didn’t mind Midge, from everything he’d heard about her. She seemed like a great roommate, nothing but caring and compassionate. She was always just so… enthusiastic. And she had terrible timing, in Jughead’s _humble_ opinion.

“Err, hey,” Jughead replied awkwardly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He needn’t have worried about filling any lingering silences as Midge powered on enough for the both of them.

“Are you excited for your visit? You’re coming in two days, right? Super sad that we’re gonna miss each other; it would have been great to meet you!” she babbled, not pausing for either breath or Jughead’s reply. “But, honestly, I feel like I know you already – Betty just won’t _stop_ talking about her wonderful new boyfriend–” Betty felt the heat from her cheeks spread throughout her entire body.

“Okay, well, Jughead has to be going now, don’t you?” Betty hurried, turning the screen back to face her. She couldn’t quite meet Jughead’s smug expression. She swore the light hammering of her heart beneath her thick, woollen sweater was visible right now.

“I’ve got some time still. I was really enjoying my conversation with Midge that you so rudely interrupted,” Jughead beamed cheekily. “So what was that you were saying about a wonderful boyfriend?” he called, raising his voice slightly so Midge could hear him better.

“Goodbye, Jughead!” Betty sang, closing the window as his laughter rang out, before either of them could embarrass her further.

He’d gotten to meet her in the end, finding out she was just as enthusiastic in person (and somehow louder) though he didn’t think that was even possible. Their introduction meant that Jughead and Betty’s alone time was significantly shaved down, and Betty was far too polite to ask Midge to surreptitiously leave for an hour or two. Jughead was all for it, on the other hand, but Betty had glared at him until he relented, sagging back against her pillows with a defeated huff. While he was an undoubted advocate for the snow, he much preferred it when it snowed other people _out_ , not _in_ with them.

Betty, for one, had seen her newfound appreciation for the snow growing with each passing second. She suspected it may have had something more to do with the way Jughead looked surrounded by the white downy stuff, rather than the freezing flakes themselves. As she showed him around the campus, illuminated like something out of a movie with a myriad of yellow streetlamps and cosy lamplight pouring out of every window, she memorised the way the pinch of the cold air turned the tips of his ears and nose pink. He tucked his chin beneath his scarf, his idle chat muffled by the fabric, one gloved hand pressed firmly, reassuringly, against her lower back. When she curled into him as they waited for the crossing to change she melted into his warmth, finding herself unable to wish for warmer weather to come quickly.

Betty had sudden visions of being back in her childhood home only this time the place didn’t set her on edge. She imagined herself curled up in front of the Coopers’ wide open fireplace, logs crackling with soothing familiarity as she watched the burning embers float up towards the chimney. Her head rest on Jughead’s shoulder, his arm securely around hers in return. Soft notes of age-old Christmas songs floated towards them from the stereo, and she would make them sickeningly indulgent mugs of hot chocolate when her mother wasn’t looking…

“I’m heading out!” Midge announces suddenly, picking up her coat from the back of her desk chair. “They’ve got this Christmas comedy set on at one of the bars a few blocks away, a couple of us thought we’d check it out. Moose will be there; do you guys wanna join?” she asks, all bright smiles and hopeful eyes. Betty turns to Jughead, her eyebrows already raised in question before he beats her to the punch.

“No!” he all but yells. Realising the eagerness in his voice he has the decency to flush faintly. “I mean, no thanks. I’ve got some… research I have to do over the holidays that Betts is going to help me with,” he stutters, the lie sounding pathetic to his own ears. He can practically feel the heat of embarrassment radiating off his girlfriend beside him as Midge gives them a knowing look.

“Alright. Have fun doing your _research_ ,” she calls with a wink, flitting out of the door with one last glance at the couple.

The silence in Midge’s absence settles heavily over the room. It stretches on and Jughead almost has half a mind to call her back just to relieve some of the foreign tension. It’s the first time they’ve been properly alone together since their weekend in his and Archie’s dorm, and neither of them expected it to feel so… weird. Jughead can see Betty’s fingers playing absentmindedly with a loose thread on her comforter. He shuffles further up the bed, resting his back against the headboard and stretching his legs out, feeling a satisfying pop in his joints.

Jughead sighs. It shouldn’t feel like this. They were putting too much pressure on the moment, making it into something it didn’t need to be. He’s been so desperate to feel her underneath his hands, to finally have her without rush or uncertainty. They were so good at being relaxed with each other; Jughead wants to get back to that, no matter what they did or didn’t do next.

“Betty–” he begins worriedly, turning towards her. She lets out an exasperated huff, and suddenly his lap is full of Betty Cooper. She swings her leg over his thighs, her hands fisting in the fabric of his sweater while his come to rest steadily on her hips. “Hi,” he says, for lack of a better response, fingers slipping beneath her top to run against the warm skin of her back. She giggles, settling herself more comfortably on top of him.

“Hi,” she whispers, dipping forwards to place a soft kiss against his lips. Betty pulls back, looking up at him from beneath thick lashes. “This okay?” she murmurs, and Jughead can’t help but laugh.

“Way more than okay,” he replies with a disbelieving smile, his eyes soft around the edges. “I missed kissing you,” he confesses, one hand moving up to slide into her hair and tug her forwards. Betty lets out a shaky breath against his lips as they meet once again, humming in agreement, teasing him with her small, brushing touches. He resists the urge to surge forwards, despite his need to have no space between their bodies, allowing her to set the pace.

Slowly she rotates her hips against his, as slow as her kisses. Jughead can’t restrain the growl that works its way out of his chest at her torment, fingers tugging harder at the silken strands tangled in his hands. Betty lets out an unexpected whimper at the action, her body falling down to rest harder against his. She can feel his body reacting beneath hers, beginning to stir with her relentless motions, spurring her to continue.

When she was extra lucky, Jughead would sometimes answer her Skype calls shirtless, in just the same way she’d been introduced to him. The smooth planes of his chest had been her first glimpse of him, ingrained solidly in her memory, and right now it was frustrating her that she hadn’t been able to touch them in weeks. She paws at the offensive fabric barrier in her way, diving in to bite his lower lip when he laughs at her impatience. His laugh turns into a moan and she pulls back with satisfaction painting her features. Still lost in a stupor Betty takes advantage of his daze and yanks his sweater off with little finesse. He emerges, looking ten times more rumpled than before and far more delicious. She takes him in greedily, hands touching every inch of skin she can reach as he brings her lips back to his, fighting with her own sweater. Betty delights in the sharp hiss he lets out as she runs her fingers down his chest, her nails catching his nipple on their descent, causing warmth to pool between her thighs.

The cold air of the room has tightened her nipples to peaks by the time he unfastens the clasp of her bra, throwing the item to the side with little regard. Jughead dips forwards, his mouth closing over her breast as he flicks his tongue over the bud. Betty throws her head back with a gasp and arches against his lips, fingers weaving their way into his hair to hold him against her chest. He continues, his other hand coming up to palm her neglected breast, until the sensation borders on pain. Betty pushes him back, taking in the way his lips are shining and reddened, pupils blown wide with lust.

“Juggie,” she breathes, too turned on to even feel self-conscious about the way her chest is heaving before his face. A squeal escapes her as he flips them without warning. Jughead hovers above her, looking down at her with an intensity in his eyes that makes Betty feel vulnerable and powerful all at once.

He runs his fingers down her side, noticing something hiding in her hooded eyes other than desire.

“What is it, Betts?” he asks, voice rough with arousal. The sound aids the coiling in the pit of her stomach, her hips shifting beneath him.

“Nothing,” she hurries, settling a hand at the back of his neck to pull him back to her, feet hooking around his thighs.

“No, not nothing. Tell me,” he pushes, stroking the stray hairs that have fallen over her cheeks away from her face. Betty squirms, unable to deny him the truth. It was something he’d always managed to pull from her, even after those few hours together. And she wants him to know it, she really does. She sighs, arms coming up to cross over her exposed chest.

“I just… I’m not…” she stutters, cursing her inability to find the right words to start. She watches as the heat in his eyes cools slightly, annoyed at herself for interrupting the moment with her worries. He doesn’t say anything, ever patient and understanding. “I’ve only had sex once before,” she rushes out, closing her eyes as her cheeks colour with something other than the flush of arousal. “It was just before everyone left for college and… I just wanted to get it out of the way,” she explains, still not meeting his gaze.

“Betty.” His soft voice coaxes her eyes open, his cools fingers lacing through hers to stop them from curling in towards her palms. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” The look he’s giving her is so honest it makes her eyes well but she blinks away the moisture quickly, not wanting tears to invade this moment.

“No, no I definitely want to,” she assures him while wrapping her legs around his hips securely. He can’t stop himself from smiling at the sheer determination in her tone, mixed with a desperation to keep his half naked body close. “I’m just worried I won’t be… good,” she finishes pathetically, her voice dropping to a volume so quiet he can barely hear her above the blood still rushing in his ears. His heart aches.

“Betty, you’re beautiful. God, I still can’t believe I get to be here with you.” At her scoff he narrows his eyes, one hand travelling beneath her chin to make her hold his gaze. “There is nothing that you could do that wouldn’t make this one of the best experiences of my life,” he promises earnestly.

“You’re so dramatic,” she jests, poking his shoulder lightly, but he is relieved to see the tightness around her eyes has vanished.

Her hands fall to his belt as he leans back in to kiss her newly returned breath away, but he moves them away to pop the button on her jeans before she can reach his zipper. He slides the fabric down her legs, not breaking eye contact as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and removes them as well. She fights the urge to cover herself as his eyes roam over her naked body, the way he licks his lips conveying just how much he likes what he sees. A surge of confidence sweeps through Betty’s chest at this and she allows her legs to fall open further.

Jughead settles himself comfortably between them, kissing his way down her body – planting his lips against the valley of her breasts, the ticklish spot against her ribs, just beneath her navel. Betty’s lips part in a silent scream as she feels Jughead’s mouth against her centre, his tongue running over the damp heat between her thighs. Her fingers pull a little too harshly at his hair, the pleasurable pain only causing him to moan against her flesh, vibrations travelling along her every nerve. His arm comes up to pin her restless hips to the sheets when his lips wrapped around her sensitive bundle of nerves, one finger and then another slipping inside of her with practised ease.

It doesn’t take long for her to feel the tell-tale signs of her impending release, thighs clamping around his head as her pleasure crests. In her daze she wonders if Midge had locked the door behind her earlier, the wounded cry she lets out as she comes making her worry that someone would come and check on her.

Before she has too much time to worry anymore she is dragging Jughead back up her body. Betty kisses him messily before he can wipe his mouth on the back of his hand, tasting herself of his tongue. Her whimper makes his hips buck forwards and Betty gasps at the feeling of him, hard, against her core.

“Off,” she commands, tugging persistently at his jeans.

“Yes, ma’am,” he smirks, chuckling breathlessly as he complies with her wishes until they are both fully exposed before one another.

The next moments follow in a fumble of sheets and limbs. She teases him about being presumptuous when he goes to retrieve the tiny foil packet from his backpack, Jughead not even having it in him to look sheepish as he clambers back onto the bed and whispers in her ear about preparation being key. He kisses her languidly as he pushes in, swallowing each little sound that falls from her lips until he is fully inside her, stilling as she gets used to the feeling. Eventually she tells him to move with a tilt of her hips, and he does. He drops his face to the crook of her neck, losing himself in the feeling of being completely entangled with Betty, bringing her close to the edge once again with each pointed thrust. His hand weaves between them to get her there, her walls clamping around him and pulling him along with her.

“Good?” Betty can’t help but ask timidly when they’re wrapped around each other later, the chill long gone from the air around them. Jughead tucks her closer against his chest, pressing a kiss to her sweat dampened temple.

“Amazing,” he whispers around a grin he couldn’t suppress even if he wanted to. She returns it, slipping her leg to rest comfortably between his. “We should probably get dressed, I don’t know when Midge will be back,” he sighs eventually, voice sleepy as he makes no move to get up, entirely loath to let Betty go despite the potential for another walk in situation.

“Yeah, we probably should,” she smiles into his skin, letting her eyes slip shut.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jughead comes to Riverdale to meet the parents.

Everything is very distinctive shades of either white or green.

Jughead laces his fingers through Betty’s over the centre console as they drive through her hometown of Riverdale, gazing curiously out of the window at the stepford scenery that flies past.

“Pep?” he asks as they pass the welcome sign, quirking his eyebrows in amusement. Betty simply rolls her eyes, shaking her head at the quaintness of her town, but he can still see the fondness hidden behind the actions.

_“Juggie, are you sure you want to come?” she’d asked him over the phone as he packed the last of his stuff into a duffle bag. She was due to arrive to pick him up on the way back home the next day. “I mean, I want you there but I’m not sure you understand the true extent of my family’s intimidation tactics.” He could practically hear her cringe through the speakers. Even though she couldn’t see him he still gave her an affectionate smile._

_“Yes, Betts, I’m sure I want to come,” he sighed, knowing she wouldn’t let up. But he knew she was only trying to protect him from the oncoming storm of House Cooper._

_“But it’s spring break and you live in California! Wouldn’t you much rather go home and be living it up on the beach instead of getting the third degree in the sleepiest town on the East Coast?” she asked, teeth tugging at her lower lip worriedly._

_“‘Living it up’? Betty, I don’t believe we’ve met. My name is Jughead Jones, resident outsider,” he quipped, smirking as he stuffed a last minute sweater on top of the rest of his stuff and zipped up the bag._

_“Hardy-har,” she deadpanned, following it up with a noisy exhale. “Fine, I’ll stop asking. But only if you’re sure.”_

_“Betty!”_

There was no going back now, she thinks, as they wind through the familiar streets. In reality, she is eternally grateful that Jughead had agreed to come home with her for their vacation. His sturdy presence by her side would make things insurmountably easier.

She’d been doing well with her new motto of doing things for herself while at Columbia. Part of her motivation, she’ll admit, is the look of unbridled pride Jughead gives her whenever she tells him she’s done something outside of her comfort zone, or caught herself before her fingernails press into her palms. He’d offered to get her as many fidget spinners as she wanted, once, laughing at the way she scrunched up her nose at the suggestion – she hadn’t seen the appeal of the fad.

Maybe she should have tried them out, she wonders as her home draws nearer, subconsciously tightening her grip on his hand. He rubs his thumb over the back of her soft skin in soothing circles, feeling the tension rolling off her in waves. The truth is while his company is a blessing it is also one of the reasons she is so nervous. She knew how intimidating her parents (read: mother) could be, and while he was a complete gentleman Jughead wasn’t exactly the squeaky clean, khaki pants and button down kind of guy Alice would approve of.

“Anything I should see while I’m here?” he asks in an attempt at a distraction, watching as the colour fades back into her knuckles around the steering wheel. Betty peeks at him from the corner of her eye, lips shifting into the blossoming smile he’s come to know well.

“Well…” she begins slowly, lifting up a delicate shoulder to rest against her ear. The gesture is so genuinely endearing that Jughead can’t help but grin, raising a hand to toy with the end of her ponytail. “I promised you a trip,” she says coyly. Jughead tilts his head in question.

“You did?” he queries.

“Yep,” she replies, popping her p and then pressing her lips together, the corners still quirked upwards as they drive down the tree-lined road. They don’t appear to be getting any closer to civilisation.

“Is this the part where you kill me in the woods so no one can hear me scream?” he asks dryly, fixing her with a serious expression. Betty rolls her eyes at his joke and flicks on her blinker, glancing around before she pulls off the road, parking up and switching off the engine before she turns to him.

“Like I would. No, remember when you took me to _Mama’s_?” He does remember; he couldn’t possibly forget a single detail of that first weekend they spent together.

“I remember the enthusiastic sounds you made when you ate those tacos,” he supplies instead, earning himself as soft smack on the chest as her lips drop open. He chuckles, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips, pressing them against her fingers chastely.

“I told you about _Pop’s_ and said I’d take you one day. At the time I don’t really know why I said that, but now that I’ve got you here…” she trails off, nodding towards the little shack outside of their windshield.

Jughead leans forward, the bright red neon of the diner’s sign falling across his face as he takes it in. It’s quaint and neat and looks a little like it just fell through a time portal right in the middle of the woods. He turns back to face her, noting that she looks a little embarrassed.

“I figured you could eat after the drive,” Jughead snorts at that, because when could he not eat? “And if I’m being honest anything I can do to delay the inevitable is a plus in my books,” she sighs, looking up at him beneath her lashes shyly. Jughead can feel his lips twist in sympathy as he leans over, hooking his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple. Betty melts into his touch, her fingers grabbing a tiny handful of his sweater.

Jughead thanks the comedic timing of his body as his stomach lets out a loud gurgle at the prospect of food. Betty pulls back, laughing, and he’s pleased to see there’s no trace of tears in her eyes.

“Come on, you. Let’s eat,” she chirps, dipping forwards to cover his lips with hers before stepping out of the car.

Jughead slides into the red vinyl booth opposite Betty, glancing over the menu in front of him before pushing it off to one side.

“You know what’s good here. I ordered for you in Boston, your turn to return the favour,” he tells her, settling back into his seat. She’s only too happy to oblige, calling over the waitress and ordering the house burger and fries, vanilla milkshake for her, and chocolate milkshake for him. Betty briefly chats with the middle aged waitress that greets them, the woman only too enthusiastic in her questions about Betty’s latest semester at Columbia.

Their food arrives after some minutes and Jughead wastes no time diving in, Betty shaking her head at his voracious appetite, but her gaze holds nothing but warmth as she waits to hear his opinion.

“Oh my _God_ ,” he moans around a mouthful, and Betty hushes him through a giggle, the loud noise having attracted the attention of the mother a booth over. She mouths a quick ‘sorry’ at the disapproving look sent their way before turning back to Jughead. His eyes are closed as he chews the combination of bread, meat and cheese, a tiny blob of ketchup tucked in the corner of his mouth. It’s so cute that Betty has to resist the urge to lean over and wipe it away with a spit-slicked thumb.

“You like?” she asks anyway, even though she’s pretty sure she already knows the answer. Jughead finishes his mouthful before he answers. He looks down at the remaining food on his plate, a little bit star-struck by the delights that await him.

“This is one of the– no, _the_ best burger I’ve ever eaten. And I’m from the West Coast, I grew up on _In-N-Out_ ,” he tells her seriously, as if this is a big deal. Betty bites her lip but the grin she’s been sporting refuses to be beat. “I’m moving here, just so I can eat these burgers every day.”

The thought of Jughead being a permanent resident in her hometown sends butterflies flapping through Betty’s stomach, but just as quickly they die as she remembers where they’re heading after their meal. She picks at her fries, shuffling them around her plate more so than actually eating them.

He can see the slight shake of her body as her knee bounces beneath the table, wiping his greasy fingers on a deep red napkin and reaching over to clasp her hand in his.

“Don’t worry, Betts. I know introducing me to your parents seems kind of terrifying right now. But no matter what happens, it won’t change anything between us,” he reassures, ducking his head to meet her downturned eyes. She looks up to give him a weak attempt at a smile.

“I know, Juggie. She can just be so… imposing,” she says finally, having clearly spent some time searching for the right word to describe her mother. “And she’s rude and invasive and I don’t like that I have to throw you to the hounds this way,” she sighs, taking a sip of her milkshake. Jughead rearranges his face into a grin to quell her worries.

“Hey, I’ve met worse. Probably,” he adds at her wry look. “And you’re severely underestimating my charms, Miss Cooper. Give me a few hours with your parents and I’m sure I’ll get them to love me in no time,” he quips, folding his arms on the table.

“That’s all it took for me,” she says in return, her voice light and unassuming in what was meant to be a joke. Jughead stills, and so does Betty once the meaning behind her words sinks in. Her face instantly turns a bright shade of crimson, and if she could move she’s sure she’d avert her eyes.

“What?” Jughead breathes, eyes wide.

“I–” Betty opens her mouth to cover her tracks, to take it back, make a joke, something. But as she looks at him, all soft sweaters and honest eyes and ridiculously cute beanie, her brain detaches from her betraying mouth. “I love you.”

The words hang between them for a moment and Betty’s heart is pounding so fast she can feel it in her throat. She can’t even imagine trying to eat her burger now.

“Really?” Jughead whispers finally, and if she’s not mistaken Betty swears that what is glittering in his eyes is hope. She nods, not trusting her voice anymore.

“I love you, too,” he replies. Betty can finally breathe again, shoulders dropping in relief as the memory of his words wash over her again and again.

“Really?” she echoes, just because she’s Betty Cooper and she has to make sure.

“Really,” he confirms, cheeks mirroring her happy flush.

Going home to see her parents suddenly doesn’t seem so bad.  


End file.
